


Who Will Catch Me Now

by Wordsyoucantaste



Series: Nesting Fluff [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman and Robin (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Batdad, Gen, baby dick grayson, papabats, slight AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-11 15:11:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7057630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wordsyoucantaste/pseuds/Wordsyoucantaste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was something different about him. It wasnt the words, the oddly comforting promise of protection, that Dick found solice in. It was the silence. He couldn't quite understand why, but the deafening lack of conversation was something Dick had wanted. He didn't want to talk. Didn't want to answer a thousand more questions. Didn't want to explain that the man he saw threatening Mr. Haley was definitely the man who pulled the trigger. And somehow, Dick got the feeling that The Batman knew this. Understood this. Allowed the boy this bit of comfort while the engine roared, speeding off to a place unknown.</p><p> </p><p>Slightly AU: Dick Grayson was only 6 when his parent's were murdered in front of him. But when Batman steps up to take of the child, Dick can't help but feel safe and secure, his future looking brighter that he thought possible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that this is a slightly alternate universe. Dick Grayson is only 6, Bruce is in his mid-twenties. A little bit of angst, but mostly comfort fluff. Plus, DaddyBats! I will continue to update this. This is my first work on here, let me know how I'm doing/give me some ideas!

The tear stains that left his skin imperfect were dry, the sting of the outside wind faded and dulled. Beside him, the oversized figure dared not look at him. He wondered momentarily if maybe this man, this Batman, was just as crooked as the man the took his moma and papa away from him. He certainly seemed violent enough. Dark enough for sure. But there was something different. It wasnt the words, the oddly comforting promise of protection, that Dick found solice in. It was the silence. He couldn't quite understand why, but the deafening lack of conversation was something Dick had wanted. He didn't want to talk. Didn't want to answer a thousand more questions. Didn't want to explain that the man he saw threatening Mr. Haley was definitely the man who pulled the trigger. And somehow, Dick got the feeling that The Batman knew this. Understood this. Allowed the boy this bit of comfort while the engine to this... car? Whatever it was, it's engine was loud. The cabin glowed with a deep red, a soft beeping began to sound and Dick craned his neck to see where it was coming from. This vehicle had tons of buttons and the child couldn't helpo but wonder what each one did. Surely, they all served a purpose. The Batman didn't seem like the kind of man that had gizmos just for kicks.   
A voice sounded, though Dick didn't quite catch what it had said. He was too focused on the words that fell from The Dark Knights lips. "...Prepare the guest room, we have some company." His voice wasnt harsh, unlike before; Dick could have sworn that either The Batman had suffered from a sore throat, or had been smoking a pack a day. But now? Now his voice was deep and warm. Dick realized that his theory of Batman's corruption was stupid. He couldn't be sure why, but it was this deep feeling in the pit of his stomach that told him he truly was safe. Just like Batman promised.  
"Am I to assume that we've become hosts to a certain acrobat, Master Bruce?" The voice that sounded through the radio was soft and heavily accented. Not soft like Batman's... or Bruce? Bruce must be Batman's real name. Dick's jaw went slack... He knew who Batman was.  
As though he had come to the same conclusion, Batman turned to face Dick. A soft smile tugged on one side of his mouth. "Guess the cat's out of the bag."  
"You mean the bat is out of the bag." Dick piped without hesitation. It was the sort of remark that would earn a frown from his moma and a giggle from his papa... his chest ached again, his stomach churning.  
A snort escaped past Batman's cowl and Bruce found he couldn't hide his amusement. Clever. And gifted. And small. So small. Bruce felt his head reel. He snuck a glance towards the child that shoved his hands under his legs before biting his lip furiously, his chin quivering. Bruce knew that young Dick was struggling to hold back tears. He knew that feeling all too well. His stomach flipped, his breath deepening as he felt his anger rising. How dare they. Who had any right to take this child's future away like that. It wasn't fair, damnit.   
Bruce didn't know what to say. He had to say something, right? They still had plenty of time together alone in the batmobile. And he'd be damned if he'd spend it letting the child torture himself with his private thoughts. "You must be hungry. Alfred can have something ready by the time we get back..." Back where? Home? The Manor wasn't Dick Grayson's home. His home was back, at the circus, with his family. The sudden reality hit Bruce and he felt horrible. Maybe he should have left the child with them. Maybe he was what he was sure the media would smear him as... a kidnapper. No, don't think about that. This is best. "What's your favorite food?"  
"Huh?" The kid, who barely had acknowledged Batman before, now seemed slightly interested.   
"What do you like to eat?"  
"I dont know... food?" What a little smart ass. What a cute little smart ass.  
"You must have a favorite?"  
"Do you?"  
"Sure." Bruce smiled. He thought for a moment. All he could come up with was the one food that he begged Alfred for for weeks on end. The ultimate comfort food. "I have a weakness for mashed potatoes."  
Dick scrunched his nose with a smile. Bruce's heart lit up. Stupid kid tugging on his heart strings. "Mashed potatoes?"  
"Al makes the meanest mashed potatoes. I think I ate that for a week straight after I hadn't been home in a while." After he hadn't been home in years.   
"Moma always made me pasta when i had a bad day." Dick mused. Without hesitation, Bruce reached across the car and hit another button.  
"Alfred, might I trouble you for some pasta. For two." Bruce could hear the silent amusement on the other end. Alfred knew it was at the child's request.   
"Certainly."  
And just like that, the call ended, and the two were left in silence. Bruce promised himself he'd find another light hearted topic to cover before the boy had another moment to think about all that had happened tonight. But just as he was struggling to make more small talk, the boy spoke up again.  
"What will happen to me now?"  
Bruce wanted nothing more than to answer that question. To give hope and promise to the young six year old that sat directly next to him. Wanted to comfort those big blue eyes and promise him everything would be okay. But he had no idea. There were a few options. Only, not really. Truth is, Batman had kidnapped one Dick Grayson, the child of two acrobats who had been murdered in cold blood. There would be hell to pay for that. Some sort of media statement would be needed. The boy would soon have to get in front of cameras and admit that Batman had saved his life. A favor that Bruce would hate to ask of the kid. But what after that? Would Bruce take Dick in perminantly? Not long ago did Bruce entertain the idea of a partner. Someone that could help him on his crusade. But Dick Grayson was not what Bruce had in mind. At least, not right now. Maybe one day, Bruce would have recruited the youngster. He had hoped the kid would be at least old enough to shave first for crying out loud.   
Perhaps a partner wasn't the future that Bruce held for Dick. Perhaps it was something more intimate. Something that Bruce had longed for, only he didn't know any better.   
"Well, that's to be decided. For now, you'll stay with me. But perhaps we should talk about this another time? I can't imagine thinking about that is doing anything good for your nerves..."  
"I'm not nervous." The boy bit his lip. "Just..."  
"Scared." The word lingered in the air and Bruce wished he hadn't said it.   
\---  
They pulled into the batcave and Bruce decided to try and lighten the mood again. "You ever see a giant T-Rex?"  
The boy pushed his nose up against the glass on the window, his breath fogging up the area a little as he let out a small "Whoa".  
The top of the car lifted and Dick attempted to crawl out. Bruce inwardly giggled. The boy's tiny legs weren't quite long enough to give him the levergae he needed to easily get out of the car. Bruce walked around, ready to lift the boy out himself, but froze in his tracks as the kid climbed up on the center console, crouching momentarily before springing forward and up, landind his hands on the frame of the car to propel himself over with perfect technique.   
"Well done, Master Grayson!"Alfred, who had now appeared with a warm blanket over his arm, stood, waiting. The boy walked... more like waddled... over to the butler, who quickly lowered himself to the child's level.  
"You're the voice from the car."  
"My name is Alfred Pennyworth." Alfred smiled, wrapping the blanket around Dick's shoulder.   
"I'm Richard. But you can call me Dick."   
Bruce took long and slow strides towards the two of them, following in suit after Alfred. Bruce couldn't help himself, he wanted to desperately to be near the child. He reached a hand out and ruffled the kids hair, but not before Dick had his hand on the side of Bruce's still cloaked face. Without much hesitation, Bruce reached up, pulling the cowl back and down as he gave a lopsided grin.  
"You're hair is all messy." Dick giggled as Bruce gave a funny face, sticking his tongue out, earning more laughter. That's what the boy needed. Laughter. Light.   
A small grumble sounded though, and suddenly, Dick blushed, his hands moving towards his belly. "I think someone is hungry." Alfred pitched before standing up straight.   
He looked at the site before him. His boy, his own child as far as he was concerned, had spent so many years shrouded in darkness. His own childhood traumas, similar to what the little blue eyed boy in front of him had experienced tonight, had nearly completely ruined the man that Bruce had become. And yet, when Alfred had thought that the possibility of love and light was impossible for the young Wayne, here stood this child. Small, still round in the face, with tiny feet and oversized eyes, Dick Grayson brought a sense of wonderment to Bruce's own piercing cold blue eyes; a warmth that Alfred had grown to miss. He wondered briefly if this is what it felt like to be a grandfather, but laughed at the idea; it was too much to assume that this little boy would fill the role of grandson, just as it was too much to assume that an eight year old Bruce Wayne would be the son that Alfred never had.   
Still, as the pair of them followed after Alfred, the promise of warm pasta ahead, he couldn't help but wonder if maybe history was repeating itself.   
\---  
He had never seen such a room before. Sure, the batcave (that's what it was called, wasn't, it?) was enormous. And the computer that sat in the front was equal in size. And he'd be lying if he didn't think the enormous T-Rex was the coolest thing he had ever laid eyes on. But nothing compared to the sheer size of the chandelier that hung from the cieling. Or the deep warmth of the wooden antique furniture. The way the footsteps echoed. The way the light bathed the art covered walls. Dick was sure that Kings lived here.   
Not to mention the china that his pasta was served on. Confusion washed over him. Were they doing all this for him? Trying to impress him? It certainly felt like that. Why else would anyone eat in a room this beautiful, with silver and porcelain this fine? "Why are we eating like this?"  
It was clear that Dick's question confused the hell out of Bruce. Only Alfred snorted, a full smile spread across his lips. "If you are wondering why such extravagence, be asured Master Grayson, this is the norm for us."  
"Hardly." Bruce let out under his breath, a comment that was meant for Alfred's ears only. It earned the man a glare.  
"What does that mean?"  
"What?" Bruce questioned.  
"Extrava..." Dick furrowed his brow to remember the rest of the word. The last thing he wanted to do was sound stupid in front his new friends.  
"Extravagence. It means lavish." Alfred defined. Dick didn't respond, even more confused than before.   
"Fancy." Bruce chimed in and Dick's understanding was as obvious as a neon sign. "It's sort of hard to explain, but, well, we don't get to eat here often. I'm not usually around at night for dinner-"  
"Because you're out kicking bad guys' butts?" This kid was too much.   
"That is exactly why, Master Grayson."  
Dick spun his head quickly, scrunching his nose. "I don't think he likes being called Grayson." Bruce chuckled. He knew the feeling. Too often did people call him Mr. Wayne; a name, he thought, reserved strictly for his father. A name he had to take for his own.   
"Well then, perhaps Master Dick will suffice?" A slight nod was enough to tell Alfrted he was on the right track.   
Dick picked up his fork, thankful that there was only one, unlike one of those fancy restaurants his partens took him to one time for their anniversary; too many forks and spoons. Scooping up a bite of the penne coated in alfredo sauce, he reveled in how good it smelled. and it tasted even better. "This is really good!" Dick cried as he all but scarfed the whole plate down fast enough to impress both Bruce and Alfred. The kid must be growing.   
Not long after, and the boy was nearly falling asleep at the table. It had been expected after all he had been through. What hadn't been expected was how easily taking the boy into his arms came to Bruce. No, it was as though he had been doing it for years now, scooping Dick up into his arms, curling him inwards so that his head may rest in the crook of Bruce's bicep against his shoulder. It felt so natural, cooing softly as the little one fell asleep quickly while Bruce carried him upstairs, tucking him into the comforter of the oversized bed that was intended for adults. For that singular moment, the way little Dick Grayson had fluttered his thick dark lashes before telling him goodnight, Bruce felt it; the light. The way his darkness, his anger and trauma induced misery, it just melted away as he momentarily watched Dick sleep.  
Bruce slipped through the bedroom door, closing it behind him as quietly as he could to the smug humming from Alfred who leaned against a wall nearby. "Isn't he the cutest..." Alfred was smiling outright, not bothering to hide a thing from Bruce.  
"Don't say it."  
"Don't say what."  
"Come on, Al, I know you're thinking it." Bruce began walking towards his own bedroom, knowing Alfred would follow.  
"Of course, I'm thinking it. I'm thinking it because you're thinking it. You and I both very well know that it's the only logical option. Ado-"  
"You are out of you're mind if you think I'm suited for fatherhood." Bruce's voice grew low. Alfred had no intention of backing down.   
"No one is asking you to play daddy to an orphaned child, Bruce." The growl in Alfred's throat signaled that Bruce was not going to win this one. The words still hurt. "But you know just as well as I that little boy needs you. He needs someone who understands just what he's going through. Someone to help him deal with that pain. And so help me god, you need him too. You know I'm right."  
Bruce paused at his door, glancing over his shoulder. "I hate it when you do that." Without another word, Bruce stepped into his own room, closing the door.  
Alfred was right. And Bruce couldn't ignore it.   
\---  
Morning light brought nothing but a headache and the dread of decisions yet to be made. Bruce groaned. His small fight with Alfred last night would prove some aftermath today. Breakfast would be interesting. Walking through the hallway, Bruce expected to be the kid's wake up call for the day. However, seeing the door to his bedroom wide open and the bed empty, Bruce figured Alfred beat him to it. He began to wonder when Dick had woken up before stumbling on the realization that he had no idea when kids his age even wake up in the morning. Did they sleep in? Did he sleep in when he was that age?  
"Master Bruce, I see you're ready to wake up Master Dick." Alfred's refreshed voice sounded and Bruce froze. It was too early and he didn't know where to start; does he begin with an apology for last night? Or does he bring up that Dick isn't in his room...  
Wait.   
"I thought you already woke him!"  
"No, I thought it best for him to get as much sleep as his little body could take..."  
"Al, he's not in his room!" Bruce took off at a run, the sudden fear of losing Dick taking hold.   
Shouting his name, Bruce searched all across the upper levels, checking all the rooms, mentally cursing his his great great great... however many greats... grandfather for building a ridiculously enormous mansion. The boy was nowhere to be found. And Bruce feared the worst. Could someone have discovered Dick was here? Did Zucko figure out where Batman lived? Kidnap the boy to cover his tracks?  
Bruce shook his head of the idea. A lowlife idiot like Zucko wasn't capable of figuring out Gotham's greatest secret. Still, Bruce's blood ran cold with worry.  
finally reaching the ground level of the manor (and dropping a few choice words when he faceplanted after missing a couple steps in his socks), Bruce figured that the boy must either be here or in the cave.   
"Check the cave, I'll look here." Alfred was on the same page.   
The cave was empty. As was the kitchen. The dining room. Living room, common room... nothing. Bruce was at wit's end. Pushing his hands through his hair, he stood in one of the many empty foyers. How could this happen. How could he lose a child?!  
He heard a small sneeze just when all hope seemed lost, just as he began to prepare a poorly constructed story for the police to report the little one missing (it involved Batman playing Stork with the kid and leaving him on the Wayne front porch... not his best idea, Bruce could admit). That twinkle of hope quickened his heartbeat and he followed the short lived sound to the study... the abandoned study.  
Bruce pushed the doors open, letting out an exagerated "Thank God!" when he saw a pair of tiny feet stick out from the other side of a large reading chair. He ran, pivoting around the chair to see a very sleepy Dick Grayson wiggle in his spot. "Is everything okay, Batman?"  
The boy called him Batman. Not Bruce. Batman. That's what he gets for stealing the boy away from the scene of the crime while wearing the cowl. Bruce still smiled, leaning down to inspect. He pressed the backside of his hand to the boy's cheek, doing his best to not laugh as how huge his hands were compared to the tiny face. His forehead felt normal and Bruce thanked every diety he knew that Dick wasn't sick. "You scared the hell out of me. Why aren't you in bed?"  
"I couldn't sleep." Dick admitted sheepishly, fumbling with his hands. "I..." He stopped, not wanting to confess that the reason he couldn't sleep was because of the nightmares. Because he was afraid of the dark and of the monsters that lurked within it. Because those monsters had a new face now, and he could still smell the gunpowder and stale cigars of the man who ripped his life away from him. Because he wanted... no, needed to be brave. Be brave, like Batman.   
But he wasn't Batman. And while on most any other occasion, Dick would claim that he was the bravest of them all, right now, he felt nothing but fear shake inside his bones. He sunk his head low, knowing he failed.  
Bruce grabbed the boy's chin, lifting his face up so that he could look directly into Dick's eyes. "You don't have to prove anything to me, Dick Grayson. You are strong and brave. Bravest six year old I know. But even the bravest of men deal with fear."  
Dick saw hope in Bruce's words. He let out a weak smile. "Even you get scared, huh."  
Bruce chuckled low in his chest, nodding. "yeah, you scared me to bits this morning. I thought I had lost you..." Bruce realized that suddenly, he was begining to sound like a father. If only Alfred heard him now. "Lets get you some breakfast." Bruce stood up, watching as Dick lept from the chair with an odd amount of energy towards the kitchen.   
He didn't get it. When he had lost his own parents, Bruce didnt leave his room for weeks. Lost about twenty pounds in the process and most of his mind too. But Dick... Dick was so peppy. So... happy? No, surely the boy wasn't happy. How can any child be happy when they've witnessed their parent's bloody murder? No, Dick was just... different. He was good and innocent. Pure even. Pure enough that the darkness that crept up on him at night wasn't strong enough to take hold of him during the day. Dick mourned in his own way. Where Bruce found solice in his loneliness, Dick clearly prefers the company of others to help him through his grieving. Granted, Dick was also a bit younger than Bruce was when he lost his parents. Two years didn't sound like much, but it made all the difference in a child's imagination. Where Bruce was old enough to summon his own demons to terrorize his sleep, Dick was only just now understanding the difference between good and evil. True evil. Dick had probably thought that his parents were invincable too. That no matter what happened, Moma and Papa would always save him. Always catch him. And now they were gone, and Bruce had taken the responsibility upon himself to pick up the pieces of this little boy's life and put him back together.   
Bruce watched as Dick made his way through a stack of pancakes spiked with chocolate chips. He sipped on his coffee, tempting his temper as he read today's headlines. Bat Kidnaps Son Of Murdered Acrobats. Joy.  
Dick must have sensed Bruce's dismay, the kid glanced up, mouth full of pancake and syrup. "But you didn't kidnap me." Dick stated blatantly. Bruce sighed.  
"They don't know that. They don't know that I am Batman. Nor can they find out."  
"So just telling them that you took me to save me won't work." Dick was smarter than he seemed at his young age.   
"You'd be correct, Master Dick." Alfred pushed his way into the kitchen, rushing his hand through the boy's hair as he set down another glass of apple juice. "Heavens, you're hungry."   
"Well, maybe we can tell them that Batman saved me and left me with you!" Dick exclaimed before happily wrapping his hands around his new glass of juice, gulping it down like it was his only vice.   
Bruce smiled. "He'll make a fine detective yet, won't he, Master Bruce?"  
"But... why would Batman leave you with me? Why not with the Police?" Bruce was testing Dick. Seeing if the boy could put it all together.  
"Because Gotham Police are yucky. At least that's what Moma says." Dick paused. "Said." he correcting mournfully.   
"Well, we can't very well go out into the public and draw a scandal like calling all of Gotham's Finest crooked, can we little one?" Alfred piped up. He saw what Bruce was doing. He quite liked the idea. Perhaps, if Dick impressed Bruce enough, Bruce would not only cave in on the idea of adopting Dick, perhaps Dick himself one day would make a fine partner for Batman. If Bruce grew attached to the idea of grooming the boy for the part, perhaps he'd continue to grow attached to the boy in general.   
Dick furrowed his brow, stuffing his cheeks into the palms of his hands. "No. I guess." It was a moment longer before Dick cheered up again, bright with another idea. "I know! Batman gave me to you because you live so far away from any of the guys who... you know..." Dick slowed in his thought process, not wanting to say it out loud. No, saying it would mean it was true. And Dick wasn't ready for that yet.   
"An excellent idea." Alfred was beaming. But not as much as Bruce was. Bruce saw how the kid thought. Saw that this little one understood the value of a secret. Understood the importance of his secret. And was willing to lie to the whole world for it too.   
"But after I tell them about Batman, what happens?" The question of the hour. What would Bruce do? Dick stared at him, and so did Alfred with that all-knowing smirk on his face. Could he do it? Could he take in this kid, this... baby? More importantly, should he? God knows that Batman was no father. And neither was playboy Billionaire Bruce Wayne. But what about the actual Bruce Wayne? Could he handle raising a child? Sure he played out the pros and cons all night last night. Pros? Too many to list. Dick was nothing short of sweet, bright... perhaps even a little mischeivious, but Bruce liked that. There was also the effect the boy would have on Bruce's reputation. Bruce Wayne, Gotham's Favorite Socialite, Adopts Young Orphan; Saint? Or Publicity Stunt. Well, perhaps that could fall under cons too. Truth be told, Bruce couldn't quite imagine any serious disadvantages to taking in Dick. The only problem was that Bruce was sure he'd screw up this whole parenting thing. One night in, and he already managed to lose the kid.   
Just one other problem.   
"Dick, what would you say if you were given the choice to be adopted?"  
Dick thought hard about it for a moment. But then he spoke and spoke very clearly. "I'd say that I would be happy as long as they were nice."  
"No mean parents?" Bruce regretted his choice in the word 'parents'. But Dick didn't seem to mind.   
"No, I want a nice mom and dad."  
Alfred was waiting, frozen where he stood with a coffee pot in his hand, ready to give Bruce another cup, but too emotionally casught up in Dick's words.   
"What if it's not a mom and dad. What if it's just one or the other?" Bruce was treading carefully. One mis-step and the kid would reject the whole idea.  
"Oh!" Dick squirmed in his spot for a moment, swinging his legs from the chair. "I don't mind as long as they love me." Kids say the damnedest things. His words were simple, but they meant the world to Bruce. It was all suddenly clear. Bruce didn't have to be father of the year. Didn't have to be anything but himself. Just love him. That was all Bruce had to do.   
"What if I said that maybe I wanted to adopt you?" The words left Bruce's lips. There was no taking them back. Alfred was a moment away from squealing.   
Dick's mouth hung open. "Really?"  
"Really."   
When Dick Grayson threw his arms around Bruce Waynes neck, hugging with all the strength the little boy could muster, Alfred felt his heart jump into his throat, his breath catching as his lip trembled with joy. When Bruce Wayne wrapped his arms around the small of Dick Grayson's back just before placing a soft kiss into the boy's hair, Alfred dropped the coffee pot onto the floor.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more cuteness. more angst. more easter eggs. ft a guest appearance from everyon'es favorite cat enthusiast.
> 
> bottom line? Dont mess with Brucie's little one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm changing the rating to teen just for language and implied sexuality. sorry this chapter is so short. I promise the next chapter will be longer!!!

  
Alfred watched with unadulterated delight as Bruce had slipped the tiny little jacket over Dick's undersized shoulders, letting the little one push his arms through. He recalled the days when Bruce was that size; small, bright eyed and hair sticking out as though he had stuck his finger in an electrical outlet. Alfred chuckled at the few memories he had of a tiny Bruce Wayne, amused at the thought that at one point, he too had looked at Bruce the same way Bruce had looked at Dick now.

  
"I look like James Bond!" Dick exclaimed, pulling his hand up into a position as though his fingers were the barrel of a gun. He made a couple pew pew noises, narrowing his eyes at the expense of Bruce's amusement.

  
"You look pretty sharp there, kido." Bruce let out. It was nice to see Dick playing. And by nice, Bruce could only think of relief. Despite Dick's oddly playful nature on the night he brought the kid home, Bruce had once wondered how he was grieving. How was he to help this child mourn if Dick didn't show any signs of loss?

  
Bruce's confused predicament had been answered shortly after he first took Dick in when he had to take the child to his parent's funeral a few days later. Up until that point, Dick had been all smiles for the most part. But when Gotham's heavy set fog lingered too long in the morning air, and Bruce held Dick's hand while making their way to John and Mary Grayson's grave, Bruce saw finally all that Dick had been holding on to. When they were close enough to read the names on the grave markers, Bruce saw Dick begin to break. His bottom lip trembled, his eyes greyed and glossed over and involentary whimpers sounded from his throat. And Bruce understood. All too well. It was a hard thing to process, losing your parents. In the few days between the day they had died and the funeral, Bruce too had been in denial. Had fully understood that Thomas and Martha Wayne were gone. Forever. No amount of blood and tears could prepare him for the fire that burned in his throat when he saw the final definitive moment that truly said they're never coming back. It was a memory Bruce had done his best to try and forget. And it was suddenly a wound that had been ripped open again when he had to watch young DIck Grayson go through the same crucible. Only this time, it was different. This time, Bruce couldn't be a helpless bystander. This time, he'd get justice for the needless deaths of the child's parents.

  
The time had passed slowly. The funeral... the procession following when Dick was forced to announce to strangers in the GCPD uniform that Batman had saved him, just as they planned. Dick had spent the following few days left in his silence. In the shrouds of the life he was forced to leave behind. Mr. Haly had come by, bringing a small trunk of Dick's things, a few posessions of his parents in there too for Dick to keep, to remember them by; a few photos, his mother's crucifix, nothing else really. The Graysons didnt seem to have much. Bruce remembered the way he helped Dick unpack... the tiny and colorful clothing that seemed too bright for Dick now in his current state. The small handful of coloring books unfinished, the toy train, the small stuffed animal that Dick had clung to desperately the moment he saw it. Bruce cringed; Dick had yet to let the thing go. It was natural, Alfred had explained, for a child of Dick's age to find ultimate solice in inanimate objects like stuffed animals. Bruce didn't understand too well, but decided to make friends with the plushie.

  
The days had passed though, and Dick now seemed brighter than ever, running around in his little suit. Bruce mentally scolded himself for the giving the child a pixie stick earlier; it clearly had proven too much sugar for Dick's little body. "I'm a secret agent!" Dick exclaimed again, running to jump on Bruce's bed before jumping and flipping off of it. Bruce frowned and folded his arms.

  
"Dick. What did I tell you."

  
Dick shrunk where he landed, biting his bottom lip and looking at his feet. "Not in the house."

  
"And?" Bruce waited. Dick looked up at the cieling, trying to remember, his mouth open, ready to speak.

  
"And not on the beds."

  
Bruce beamed. He opened his arms up, waving for the little one to come back over with a smile playing on his lips. How could he stay mad at Dick? The kid had the face of an angel and Bruce was in no position to see crocodile tears or a tantrum from the kid. "Let's get this tie on you now."

  
Bruce wasn't entirely too sure if this was a good idea. With the adoption papers only signed just yesterday, Dick's place in Bruce's world was still being established. Sure, Bruce now had the legal right to claim himself as Dick's adoptive father. But the relationship between father and son had yet to be created. It was a work in progress. And if Bruce was being honest, he was unsure if letting Dick into the world of glamourous parties, expensive champaign and cheap women dressed in fine dresses was a smart idea. It was no place for a little boy. But when Dick had heard that there would be a party at the manor, Bruce could do all but deny Dick the chance to go. And trust that he did try. He warned Dick that it was going to be all adults. That he would have to wear a jacket and tie and that running around would not be tolerated. Still, Dick had puffed his chest out and claimed that he was a big kid and admitted that he wanted to meet Bruce's friends. Sneaky Alfred already had a suit ready for the little one before Bruce could even agree to it. "In case he decides to make an appearence without permission, sir." It was a cheap lie, but Bruce wouldn't argue against Alfred's newfound glow over the child's perminant residence here at the manor.

  
Bruce straightened out Dick's tie, marveling that ties that small were even made, before standing up and straightening his own bowtie. He had to admit, if Dick's appearence now was any indicator of how the child would grow up, young Grayson would certainly be a heartbreaker. Even now, Bruce had to prepare himself for the constant fawning the ladies would subject the child to tonight. Something told Bruce that despite all his previous reasoning, Dick may not be ready for tonight simply because Dick would be overwhelmed.

  
"Now, remember the rules?" Bruce questioned and Dick nodded with a large burst of enthusiasm.

  
"No running, be polite, and don't drink any of the apple juice in the tall skinny glasses." Alfred let out an obscene laugh, doubling over. Bruce couldn't ignore it and sent his trademark glare to which Alfred swatted away with his hands.

  
"I'm sorry, Master Bruce. I simply was not prepared for that one."

  
While Alfred found the remark funny, Bruce shuddered at the idea. Gotham's elite weren't known for being responsible, especially when alcohol was involved. And the last thing Bruce wanted or needed with someone questioning his parenting abilities because some drunken asshole decided it would be fun to give the kid champaigne or wine. Bruce had already spoken to the waiters about the matter, asking that Dick's favorite juice was kept ready to serve to the little one should he get thirtsy. Bruce had also managed to stuff a small bag of cheerios in his pocket (an act he had kept from Alfred, sure that the older man would not let Bruce hear the end of it) should Dick get hungry and not find anything being served appetizing. He mused quietly that this is what parenting must feel like, and found himself thankful that his night time activities had installed in him a sense of preparedenss; a useful trait when handling a six year old.

  
"Ready?" Bruce grinned and Dick gave a toothy smile filled with excitement.  
\---  
It was a disaster. A complete and utter disaster. The thick of it had passed, thankfully. But nothing could have prepared Bruce for the trouble he encountered tonight. He had thought of everything. Food and drink, manners, conversation topics... even rehearsed with Dick on what to say if someone asked him about The Batman. "He seemed really nice." Dick would say. Bruce had even watched as Dick came up with his own rebuttles; "I wanna be like Superman!". Bruce swore he'd never tell the Kryptonian about that one. But Kent and the others were another issue for another day.

  
For now, Bruce had to handle the aftermath of the one thing he did not perpare for. Paperazzi.

  
The sniffed him out, like beasts to their prey. Caught Dick in a swarm and seperated him from Bruce, cornered him. Frightened him. Threw a million questions his way, using no ounce of tact or regard for the child's feelings. "Can you tell us anything about living with Bruce Wayne?" "What was it like, watching your parent's die in front of you?" "How do you feel, knowing that the murderer is still out there?" "What's your favorite color?" "How old are you?" "Do you like Gotham?" "Tell us something about Daddy Bruce Wayne!" "Talk to me, Dick!" "Tell us the real story!" "Do you miss them?" 'How do you feel knowing that you're going to inherit Bruce Wayne's legacy?" "Who made your suit?" "Does Bruce have any girlfriends?" "What was it like being saved by Batman?" "Do you think Haly is at fault for your parent's death?" "Do you get nightmares?" "How does it feel being the last of the Flying Graysons?"On and on they went, flashes going off, photos of a traumatized child considered being suitable for tomorrow's headlines and gossip colums.

  
What hurt most wasn't that Dick had been harrased by a hoard of sticky 'journalists'. It was that Bruce somehow let it happen. He didn't know how. One moment, Dick was by his side, giggling and laughing at a knock knock joke a guest had offered up. The next? He was gone. And Bruce would have slipped into that panic again if it weren't for the obvious signs that Dick wasn't lost; he was in trouble.

  
The cries Bruce heard shot adrenaline through his spine, his head whipping around to find the source of the heartwrenching noise hidden by a swarm of cameras and recorders. When Bruce had pushed his way through the small crowd, his blood boiled with rage when he saw the state Dick was in; eyes red from tears, cheeks stained pink, knees brought to his chest from sinking to the floor to try and hide. He had reached down, pulling the boy off the ground, setting the boy on his waist as Dick burried his face into the lapel of Bruce's jacket. Bruce turned, baring his teeth as he growled. "Come near him again, and i'll shove those fucking cameras up your ass. Leave. Now."

  
Perhaps Bruce shouldn't have cursed so openly with Dick right there. But he was sure that it was the lesser of two evils. Point was, they left the boy alone with sheer terror in their eyes, scrambling to abandon the mansion and the party within. It's a wonder no one has suspected him of being Batman.

  
In the aftermath, Dick seemed to want nothing more than cling to Bruce's leg, hooking his finger inside Bruce's pocket so as to not claim Bruce's hand all night. And truth be told, Bruce didn't mind. Not. One. Bit. It was an odd sense, but Bruce felt calm about keeping the kid by his side all night. He wouldn't have to worry about Dick's whereabouts, wouldn't have to worry about anyone harrasing him. Bruce would be there to protect him. If only someone was there to protect Bruce from all the snide remarks.

  
"So, tell me Brucie..." Some well-endowed brunette with no humility or modesty was leaning in too closely for Bruce's liking. But he had a role to play. He couldn't be the mean brute that he wanted to be; he had to play nice. But still, with the child around, Bruce couldn't play too nice. Something he wondered if he'd miss. As much as he didn't really enjoy playing the playboy, he did occasionally enjoy the attention from good looking women. Who could blame him? The way the brunette pursed her lips, squeezing her arms together slightly to give Bruce an ample view of her... assets... "How does it feel being daddy...?"

  
"Now now. He only just adopted the boy, lets leave the kinky inuendos at the door, shall we?" Bruce knew that voice. He couldn't help but feel relieved. He turned to find that dazzling smile and well pinned up hair that left small tendrils to frame her perfect face. Crimson lips and a seductive twinkle in her eye and Bruce felt at home.

  
"Didn't think you'd make it, Selina."

  
"Oh you know me..." She threw back the last of her champaigne. "I love rubbing elbows with Gothem's wealthiest and most powerful." She licked the edge of her teeth, giving a subtle smile and Bruce had to do his damnest to not give in to all that was Selina Kyle. They had danced around each other for a while now, and Bruce found himself missing her, albiet for selfish reasons. She reached out, touching Bruce's bicep as she planted a kiss strategically designed to make Bruce come undone if he so desired; right by his ear. A small "gross" sounded and Bruce was reminded again just why he can't divulge in her perffered style of company.   
"And who might you be, handsome?" Selina cooed, finally taking interest in Bruce's newest venture. She knelt down, knowing that someone in the room would think her tasteless in sitting on her knees while wearing the heavily beaded dress that cost a small fortune by her standards. But she didn't care. When she heard that Batman had kidnapped the young acrobat, Catwoman knew that there was something larger at play. And now that she's seen the little sweetheart, she understands everything. She told herself to give the bat a nice reward when she saw him next; after all, heroes deserved to be rewarded, didn't they?

  
When Selina's dark eyes finally caught , she let out a shocked breath. He was tiny little perfection. And very vividly romani with those surprising eyes and dark hair. Selina took it upon herself to ensure that any of Dick's future girlies would have to past her test first.

  
"Selina, this is Dick."

  
"You have the prettiest eyes I have ever seen." Selina admitted, laughing at how Dick nearly stuck his tongue out at the compliment.

  
"I'm a boy, I can't be pretty." He demanded. But Selina would hear none of it.

  
"Sure you can. Look at Bruce here. Lots of people think he's pretty. Boys can be pretty too."

  
Dick shrugged, reaching up for Bruce's pocket again only to be surprised when he his hand came in contact with the outer edge of a small bag. Bruce paid no mind, too busy caught up in Selina's shameless flirting. Dick's lips tugged upward on one side as he slipped his hand further, pulling up the plastic bag quickly and smoothly, giggling in delight when he saw the bag filled with cereal. He pried the bag open, snacking away, glad he didnt have to eat anymore of those crackers with the overly salty cheese on it. Or shrimp for that matter. Or any of the other yucky food all the adults were enjoying. Bruce had whispered earlier that he'd have Alfred make more pasta once this was all over, doing his best to ignore the idea that it would be well past Dick's bed time when this event was over.

  
Dick popped another cheerio in his mouth, humming with delight; they were the honey-nut ones, his favorite. Bruce had been ready to say something witty and charming to Selina, but paused when his ears caught the sound of crunching. He turned his head, looking down, his jaw still slack when he saw Dick eating more and more of the no longer hidden treat. "How...?" Bruce didn't feel Dick take the bag out of his pocket. Even when he was playing the part of Bruce Wayne, Batman didn't feel the bag leave his pocket. When he realized what had happened, Selina beat him to the punch line.

  
"The Dark Knight get pick pocketted by a child?" Selina's voice went soft into Bruce's ear and Bruce grinned widely.   
"Dick, did you take that bag without asking?" Bruce's words caused Dick to freeze, cheeks filled with his favorite snack.   
"Um..." Dick knew that if he answered yes, he'd be in trouble. And if he answered no, he'd still be in trouble.

  
"Relax Bruce. Poor thing was just hungry." Ms Kyle to the rescue. And Bruce couldn't argue against it. The bag was intended for the kid anyway, and why should Bruce be upset that the kid was resourceful. He looked past it, and counted the incident as yet another reason the boy could one day prove useful to Batman. With Batman.

  
Bruce picked Dick up, chuckling softly. "Did you pick my pocket?" Dick nodded, clearly unashamed. "Where did you learn that?"

  
"Uncle Adam taught me." Uncle Adam. A member of the circus no doubt.

  
"What else did they teach you in that circus?" Bruce had meant it as a joke, but he slowly wondered just what exactly other skills this small child had acquired while at Haly's.

\---  
Bruce watched discretely from behind the barely closed door as Alfred had tucked the boy in, pushing Dick's stuffed best friend in by his neck, making kissy noises as he pushed the toy's beak against Dick's cheek. Dick giggled in delight. "You never did tell me the name of your friend here, Master Dick."

  
"It's Rob!" Dick exclaimed.

  
"Oh. And what is Master Rob's story?" Alfred pulled the blanket around Dick as best he could while the boy wiggled.

  
"He and I have the same birthday. Moma said that we were born on the first day of spring and that it's a good omen." Dick yawned.

  
"Why is that a good omen?" Bruce began to look more closely at the stuffed animals. It's brown body with a vivid red belly.  
"Because he's a robin and robins are good luck! That's why moma called me her little robin. Because I brought spring with me."

  
Alfred smiled, pushing his hand through the boy's hair and rubbing his cheek before bidding him sweet dreams. He met Bruce on the other side, the younger man in uniform, ready for his patrol. "So soon?"

  
"Unfortunately, crime doesn't honor the dead." Bruce let out softly.

  
"Break a leg, sir."

  
"Hopefully not too many." Bruce winked as he pulled the cowl up, leaving Alfred. The halls had long cleared, not a soul was in sight and the charity event which Bruce found himself host to had ended.

Batman was ready to take control of the streets once more. And even as he perched himself on a gargoyle of a centrally located apartment building in downtown Gotham, all Bruce could think about was Dick. And that stupid worn out precious robin.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Superman, Flash, Green Arrow, Wonder Woman, Black Canary and Green Lantern all learn very quickly that Bruce is very much indeed human. Meanwhile, Dick meets a mini-speedster and a tempermental archer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as Dick Grayson was aged down, so is Wally and Roy. Wally is 8, Roy is 10. Because baby sidekicks are my vice. I also apologize for spelling errors. My word account isn't working so i'm stuck using word pad and it has no spell check. at. all.

  
He had been dodging them for weeks now. He knew that it wouldn't last much longer. They'd show up, demanding answers. Desperate to know just what the hell Batman was thinking. Bruce found himself very thankful that he had enrolled Dick into school as loud pounding sounded. He knew exactly who that was. And he'd have to remind big blue that if he breaks the door, he buys it.

  
Bruce wasn't so sure he'd seen Clark so pissed. Either way, he found it amusing. America's favorite boy scout. What kind of wrath did he have that Bruce couldn't take?

  
Apparently, a pretty hellish one, Bruce thought as he was sent flying back into the foyer with a single punch. He smiled though as he climbed to his feet. Clark wasn't here to hurt him. Not really, he mused as he noted that his jaw was still intact.

  
"You've got ten seconds, Wayne, or so help me god..."

  
"Pretty sure the dark brooding pissed off act was my thing, Kent." Bruce noted that Clark was unamused. The hulking brunette didn't budge. "What, no glasses? Aren't you worried someone might think you're Superman?"

  
"I'm waiting, Bruce." Damn, he really was in no mood. What a shame. Bruce was feeling pretty good as of late and now he understood what it was like to have that feeling crushed by the killjoy.

  
"Relax. Everything's fine."

  
"You kidnap a kid, convince him to lie to the police, and then you adopt him? I might excuse that, though it seems a bit fishy to me-"

  
" Waterboy has got nothing to do-" Bruce stopped when he saw Clark's eyes go red. Maybe this wasn't the most appropriat time for Aquaman jokes.

  
"But then you ignore us for weeks. Not that you've been missed much, no matter what Allen says..." Clark stepped forward, finally leaning against the nearby table, relaxing a little. Bruce found comfort in that. He was in no place to take on Superman, and the idea of Clark not being reasonable was just... upsetting, to say the least. "You have to understand how that makes you look."

  
Bruce knew exactly how he was looking right now to the League. Selfish. Mad. Completely lost it all, he was sure of it, judging by the house call Clark seemed willing enough to deliver to Bruce.

  
"Why are you really here?" Bruce knew that Clark would not play messanger boy to the League. And they wouldn't ask him to either. In fact, Bruce was sure that Clark's concerns, which he was sure was shared by many members, were his own and that this house call was simple an excuse for the Krytonian to call Batman out on it.

  
"Meeting coming up in a coule days. You're bat ass better be there." Bruce smiled at Clark's play on words. It was how they did things, the two of them, trading childish insults back and forth like school kids.

  
"And if i'm not?"

  
"I'm sure you'll be able to find a sitter." Venom dripped from Clark's smile, his head tilting down so that his features were shrouded in darkness for a moment. If Bruce didn't know any better, he'd say that Clark looked dangerous. Looked being the operative word.

  
"Ha, very funny."

  
"Bring the kid along for all I care. You better be there. Or you run the risk of your intentions on this team being questioned." Clark knew that Bruce's intentions were always in question. Where learning each heroe's strengths and weaknesses was possible, Batman seemed impossible to pin. Just when he thought he had the man figured out, Bruce went and did things like kidnap a circus acrobat. Only difference was that Clark knew Bruce had his reasons for everything. Most of the league probably thought Batman did what he did for the mere fun of it. " They're worried that you've moved on. You can't really blame them." Clark deffended when he saw Bruce cock himself back, ready to fire some insidious remark about the integrity and intentions of the Justice League. Bruce calmed for a moment, smiling as he rubbed the back of his neck. He swung his arm out, letting his hand smack Kent on the shoulder as he walked by.

  
"Consider this my RSVP then."

  
Clark smiled widely, unfolding his glasses that he pulled from his pocket and pushing them up onto his nose. He knew that this was Bruce's way of thanking him for the warning; the heads up, so to speak. Making his way through the front door again, he didn't bother to turn around to say goodbye. Instead, he let out a simple "Give Alfred my regards" before moving to leave the doorway.

  
A great deal of many things Clark was prepared for when he planned on this impromptu visit to Wayne Manor. A fight with Bruce. Tea from Alfred (or coffee, hopefully). Stupid juivinille insults traded off, each man trying to one up the other. But Clark did not expect to run into the child in question. No, he figured the little boy would be at school. But there Dick stood, wide eyed and still under four feet, his little body donning a small uniform. And Clark was certainly not expecting the pure adorableness that was this little child. But what really threw him off was what the boy had on his back...

  
"Say a word, and I'll break your nose." Bruce growled slightly. It was loud enough for Clark to hear, but not enough for Dick.

  
Dick stared up at Clark, stunned. This man... the way his dark hair curled before falling back into his face, the shape of his jaw, the sheer size of his shoulders. Clark gave the boy a tousle of his hair before leaving for good. If he stayed any longer, he was sure that he'd be unable to let go of the fact that Bruce had let Dick Grayson carry a _Superman_ backpack.

  
Dick ran towards Bruce, dropping his backpack from his shoulder, holding it in front of Bruce now, smiling. "That was Superman!" Dick cried out.

  
As much as Bruce would love to let Dick believe that Clark was the Man Of Steel, he knew that Clark would deffend Bruce's identity unless given explicit premission otherwise. Still, Bruce found himself glowing with pride. It wasn't the greatest mystery, Superman's identity. Anyone with half a brain and a pair of eyes could see that Clark's civillian disguise was simply a sweater and a pair of glasses. Still, kids suspended that disbelief, and Dick would normally not be considered an exception. But the kid made Bruce proud. He'd be a fine detective yet.   
"No, that was just a friend of mine, Clark Kent." Bruce lied. Dick glared. And it _scared_ Bruce. The kid had only been with him for a month or so and already, he had mastered the brooding glare. This kid would be the death of him, he was sure of it.

  
"Whatvever. That was totally Superman." Dick glowered, walking away, dragging his bag behind him.

  
\---

  
Bruce treaded lightly, tapping his fingers on the door of Dick's room before walking in softly. He had reveled in how this room that had one just simply been a guest bedroom had now felt like Dick's personal space. The bedding that once was elegant and rich in colors now had dinosaurs in vibrant primary colors. The opposite wall that once held fine art that Thomas and Martha had collected now was home to a bookcase filled with various childrens books and toys; stuffed animals galore, trains, a Superman and Batman action figure taking a small place in the center. Bruce did his best to not laugh everytime he saw them. When he dedicated himself to becoming the vigilante that he was, he didn't think that there would be toys and franchising rights in the process. He mentally scolded himself, wondering how ironic it would be if Wayne Ent. had funded the franchising rights to Batman. Certainly, Lucious Fox would be highly amused. In addition, a few posters hung up on the wall; One very painterly depiction of Superman holding the world on his shoulders, a framed Haly's Circus flyer, a schematic size reference poster for various Dinosaurs, and a small corkboard covered in small train and travel tickets from Dick's adventures with the circus. Nearby, a small window sill seat and next to it, a desk in which Bruce found Dick working hard on some craft project.

  
"Watcha working on there?" Bruce leaned over the kid's chair, confused as Dick began to tie yarn to each side of a rectangular piece of paper colored black.

  
"My mask."

  
Oh no. No, it wasn't happening. Bruce had heard that children around Dick's age often fantasized and borderline obsessed over certain themes or ideas. Usually, it was astronauts, or cowboys... or in Dick's case, superheros. Bruce was already in hot water over all this, and now the kid's infatuation with superheros would surely be enough to condemn Batman as far as the Justice League was concerned. He'd have to work really hard to convince them that Dick was not, in any way shape or form, on the path to becoming Batman's sidekick. At least, that's what Bruce had hoped.

  
Dick brought the piece of paper up to his face, linning the holes up with his eyes as he slipped the yarn around his head. He turned stood on his chair, making Bruce giggle as he jumped down, running around the room. "If I'm going to go to the super secret superhero hideout, I have to have a mask!" Dick exclaimed before dipping into a sommersault with a little grunt. Bruce couldnt take it, the admirable way that Dick seemed to idolize his work without outright saying it. It was the kind of refreshing reminder that Bruce needed; it had been a month and Bruce couldn't manage to gather up enough evidence still to take down Zucko for what he had done to his little boy.

  
Bruce momentarily cringed inwardly; his little boy. Could he consider Dick his now? Was that fair, or right even? Would Mary and John Grayson approve? Or are they ashamed in the way Bruce has handled their precious son?

  
Bruce watched as Dick continued to play. "I'm going to catch the bad guys! Make them pay for the crimes!" Bruce's heart broke. He wanted to bring peace to Dick. He thought about it a moment longer and realized the subconcious reason for Dick's newfound fascination. Outwardly, it would make sense, knowing that Dick had started a new life with Bruce and Batman, the child would just show great interest in his new life. Alfred had expressed to Bruce that at Dick's age, the child would want nothing more than to impress and please Bruce. This seemed like it would do the job. However, it was something much deeper in that.

  
Dick wanted to be a superhero so that he wouldn't feel helpless. Helpless like the day he watched his parents get shot and fall to their death. And Bruce couldn't tell him no. After all, Bruce was in no position to tell Dick that his childhood fantasies were rooted in the wrong place.

  
Bruce decided that letting the kid play alone was no longer enough as he prepared himself, snatching the boy up and pushing him in the air as he ran by, making a small wooshing noise. Dick giggled as Bruce let him crash onto the bed before tickling him senselessly for a moment before Dick wiggled free, jumping up onto Bruce's shoulders and pushing him down, trying to tickle him. "Where did you hide the hostashes..!"

  
Bruce nearly lost it. The kid couldn't even pronounce hostages. "I'll never talk!" Bruce cried, incuring the wrath of Dick a second longer.

  
"I'll make you!" Dick's hands found Bruce's sides and Bruce giggled genuinely, the child finding a small weakness that Bruce had, a singular spot in which he truly was ticklish.   
"You're plans are foiled!" Bruce declared, lifting the boy and flipping him upside down, holding him by his knees while Dick cried out with laughter. "Who will save our hero now!"  
It wasnt much longer before Dick began to show signs of exhaustion. Alfred had appeared as usual, taking it upon himself to put Dick to bed on a nightly basis. Bruce wished he could commit to that task, but with his other duties, it just wasn't in the cards. Still, Bruce did his best to help, and no matter what, he always stopped in to say goodnight.

  
Getting dick into his pajamas, making sure he brushed his teeth and washed his face, Bruce sighed gently, wrapping the boy up into his blankets. "Bruce?"

  
"Hmm?"

  
"What if I can't sleep?" Bruce knew what he was really asking. What if he got nightmares. Bruce grabbed the nearby stuffed bird, tucking it in with Dick.

  
"Rob will keep you safe."

  
"He's just a stuffed animal." The words hurt Bruce. It was a sure sign that Dick liked to have fun, but knew that the world was capable of terrible things. Something a six year shouldn't have to think about.

  
"Now, he's not just a stuffed animal. He's good luck, remember?" Dick whimpered, not comforted by that fact at all. "Besides, Batman will always be here to protect you."

  
"But Batman has to go on patrol." Dick countered. Bruce leaned in, bringing his face nearly against Dick's own tiny button nose.

  
"I swear, I will always be here to protect you."

  
The words were enough to comfort Dick into closing his eyes and falling asleep.

  
\---

  
The little snot couldn't stay still and Bruce couldn't be happier that they had beamed up to the tower finally and Dick's excitement could be unleashed. In a moment anyway.  
Bruce reached forward, grabbing the kid's red shirt before yanking him back perhaps a little too forecefully. Dick didn't pay any mind as he tilted his head back, a subtle "what?" escaping his lips.

  
"Take that thing off." Bruce demanded, reaching down and pulling the construction paper off of Dick's face . They were in the privacy of an empty room for now and Bruce knew this was the best moment for this.

  
Dick's eyes swelled, and Bruce knew that the kid was assuming the worst; Batman had no room for his usual nonsense and he was dissapointed in Dick's silly behavior. Bruce normally would take a moment to reassure Dick that he still loved him and that he wasn't trying to be mean but...

  
Wait, love? Bruce thought about the temptation to confess to the little one that he had stolen Bruce's heart, but held off. It was still too soon. The last thing Bruce needed was to intrude on Dick's feelings, worried that Dick might think Bruce was trying to replace John. That wasn't the case.

  
Bruce snapped out of it, realizing that he had waited a moment too long as Dick's eyes began to work up crocodile tears. Working quickly, Bruce picked Dick up, pulling him in close as he reached behind him, pulling out his newest lavish on the child.

  
Dick seemed to not notice this, pushing his head into Batman's shoulder as he began to cry and whisper little "I'm sorry"s. Bruce dared not respond, instead, with his little surprise in his hand, he reached up towards Dick's face.

  
Dick didn't know what happened. One moment, he felt sad, betrayed even that Batman didn't appreciate the work that Dick had put in to his outfit. Never mind the way his heart sank when Bruce didn't bother with his usual words of comfort. Did Dick upset him? Make him mad? He hoped not. All he wanted was to make Bruce proud. But now Bruce's hand was covering Dick's eyes, pushing something up against his eyebrows and cheekbones and Dick scrunched his nose against the weird hard material that now sat on his face. When the darkness from Bruce's oversized hand left Dick's tiny face, Dick's mouth hung open slightly. Bruce watched with a large grin on his face and Dick's childlike wonderment led him to discover that Bruce had pushed a mask onto his face.

  
"A real mask!" Dick squirmed, writhing and wiggling free from Bruce's grasp as he landed on the ground, his hands touching his face as he squealed with delight. Bruce couldn't imagine anything more endearing. He had the mask made when he saw that Dick was committed to having his own psuedo identity as the days led up to Dick's visit to the tower. At first, Bruce considered simply leaving Dick at home. But how could he? Surely, Dick would sense that Batman was up to something. And with the recent discovery of Superman (Something Bruce still denied by the way), there was just no way in hell he could say no. Not even Batman could deny Dick this. So Bruce did the next best thing. He encouraged it.

  
Bruce held out in display a piece of black fabric and Dick spun, his eyes growing even wider in his mini domino mask. "Is that a....?"

  
"Come try it on." Bruce was glowing as Dick ducked into the opening of the cape, twirling when it was secured. Dick spun up, grabbing one end of the fabric before folding his arm over his mouth, narrowing his eyes as he glowered in Bruce's direction.

  
"I am the night!" He growled and Batman was close to tears it was just too much.

  
"Come on, Batmini, or we're going to be late." Bruce ushered the even more excited child through the door, hoping the Justice League would forgive him for being untimely. Surely, they'd kow that Bruce's schedule is always uneasy due to him having to wrangle a very hyper kid now. Or at least, he hoped they would.

  
Bruce saw that the living area just outside the conference room had already been occupied; looks like Dick might make some friends. When Batman's eyes found two young sidekicks aready giggling and playing, he turned to Dick, knowing he had no time to play meet and greet. "I'll be on the other side of this door. Play nice, and stay out of trouble."Dick nodded as Batman ruffled his hair before pinching his cheek. "And try not to conquer the world with that cute little face of yours."

  
Dick stuck his tongue out as Batman laughed softly before disappearing through the door. He cursed when he saw they were all waiting for him. Even The Flash was there. And Barry was always late.

  
"Sorry." Batman let out sheepishly, earning very confused looks from his team mates.

  
"You never apologize, why now?" Jordan crossed his green clad arms, leaning back in his chair.

  
"Fatherhood changes us all." Queen scoffed up with a weak smile.

  
Batman knew this meeting was going to be awful.

  
\---

  
Dick stood at the doorway, unsure of what to do. He had depended on Bruce's company so much that once he was gone, Dick felt lost. What now? He looked up at the tall ceilings. Found the whole place to be quite cold really. Not as warm or as extravagant as the manor. But then again, Dick rarely found anything else to be quite like his new home. There wasn't much to look at still, and Dick found himself wondering just who was behind that door that had Bruce so worried? He had been worried for days. Ever since Not-Superman showed up, Bruce was acting all sorts of weird. When he invited Dick to tag along to his meeting with his fellow superhero friends, Dick was more than excited. He was thrilled! But it still made him wonder just what business he even had being here.

  
Sure, Dick was, in a weird sort of surrogate way, Batman's son. But he wasn't a hero by any means. Sure, now he had a mask and a cape. But was that enough? He didn't have any powers. But then again, neither did Bruce. No, Bruce wasn't Superman. He didn't have super speed like Flash. And wasn't a warrior princess like Wonder Woman. Yet, Batman was considered one of the greatest heros of all time. So why couldn't Dick be a hero too? Afterall, Bruce had given Dick a proper mask and a real cape. Now Dick just needed the rest of the uniform.

  
"I like your cape." A small voice squeaked up from behind Dick and it caused him to spin around to find it's owner. Another boy with red hair dressed in all yellow with a red lightning bolt on his chest stood before him. Dick smiled.

  
"I like your suit." Dick admitted. The boy in front of him beamed.

  
"Isn't it cool? My Uncle Barry got it for me after my accident. He says that one day, I can be the Flash just like him!" Dick marveled at how happy this boy was, at how cool he was. Dick didn't understand too well the feeling he got from the kid, but all he knew was that Dick wanted to be friends with him.

  
"You're supposed to keep Flash's identity secret, dork!" Another boy, older, said, folding his arms as he crossed the room. He too had red hair like Dick's new friend, but unlike the speedster, the older boy's hair was vibrant orange where the younger had red kissed brown hair, his skin peppered with freckles, lacking a tan where as the younger boy in yellow had no visable freckles. It was hard to tell, the young mini-Flash had most of his face covered by a mask that sat over his eyes and forehead, but left his nose and mouth area exposed, his hair sticking out from the top in several directions. "Ignore him, Kid Flash is a dweeb."

  
"Jerk." Kid Flash let off, folding his arms and shifting his weight to one side of his hips.

  
"I'm Speedy." the older redhead held out a hand and Dick shook it like the gentleman Bruce taught him to be. Still, Dick hit a funny realization, and laughed without meaning to.  
"If you're a speedster" Dick pointed to the still pouting boy, "Then why are you called Speedy?"

  
"Because" The older boy puffed his chest out, resting his hands on his hips before pointing his thumb at his own crimson clad chest. "I'm the fastest shot around!"

  
Dick continued to size the boy up. Kid Flash' outfit made sense to him. It had lightning bolts and was yellow and red and cool. But Speedy wore a pair of dark pants and a crimson shirt, a matching domino mask similar to what Dick wore on his face, and a yellow and red pilaeus styled hat with a feather sticking out of it. He looked like Robin Hood or Peter Pan, Dick thought. But then it was suddenly obvious. "You shoot arrows!" Dick exclaimed. He had always wanted to learn, but never had the chance. He thought it was super cool and did very little to hide his excitement.

  
"So what's your name?" Kid Flash asked.

  
Dick paused. Batman had told him explicitly to not tell anyone his real name. "Anyone who is worthy of knowing who you are already knows" he had said. So what would he tell these guys? Surely, Kid Flash and Speedy weren't their real names, but Dick didn't have a superhero name to tell them. He thought too quickly, desperate to try and find something to give them. Bruce was Batman. A flying animal combined with what his gender was. And all Dick could think of what his moma called him.

  
"I'm Robinboy." Dick said proudly. It wasn't the best, but it worked, right?

  
Apparently it didn't. Both Speedy and Kid Flash burst out laughing and Dick felt his cheeks go hot. His hands grabbed the edges of his cape and his head ducked down, completely embaressed. It was a bad name. Stupid. And he hated himself for coming up with it. Batman would be ashamed that he was a joke now.

  
"Hey!" Kid Flash let out, a hand landing on his shoulder as Dick felt the warmth of his body lean in close to his side. "Don't feel bad. Just... don't try so hard? Maybe lose the 'boy'?"  
Dick glanced up at Kid Flash, seeing the warm friendly smile and he leaned in to the boy's touch. "So, just Robin?" Kid Flash nodded with a smile and Dick warmed up at the idea. "Yeah. Robin." Dick knew his moma would be proud. He was always her little Robin.

  
Kid Flash brought his gloved hand up and pull his cowl down, revealing the rest of his face. "My real name is Wally."

  
Dick couldn't resist the urge to just revel in his new friend's admiration. Wally. "Mine's..." Dick paused again. "Oh... I uh... I'm not allowed to tell you."

  
"It's okay!" Wally let out, jumping around. "Batman is tough with his rules, I get it!"

  
Batman was tough? Was Wally talking about the same Batman Dick knew? How many many Batmans were there?

  
"He's not really tough with me."

"Well yeah." Speedy piped up. "you're his kid. He has to be nice to you."

  
"Green Arrow isn't always nice to you!" Wally deffended, playing devil's advocate.

  
"He says I need to learn discipline. But anyway, he's not so bad. He's no Batman."

  
Dick grew more and more confused by the minute. "Is Batman mean?" his voice was meak and his eyes wide.

  
Speedy grinned. "Really mean. They say that he doesn't work with anyone and that he's only on the Justice League because he wants to spy on other superheros." Dick's eyes grew wider. No, this couldn't be true. "They say he strikes fear in the hearts of the world's most evil villains. That he even has a plan to take out Superman!"

  
"Roy, stop it!" Wally shouted, Dick now slouched on the floor. Speedy clicked his tongue and turned to walk away. He decided that getting some target practice was better than hanging around these two.

  
"Whatever. I'll see you babies later." He huffed. Roy felt bad. But he wouldn't admit it. He had scared the kid who was clearly even younger than Wally, who was only eight. He was wrong, but Roy never liked being wrong. And he sure as hell wouldn't admit it to a bunch of little kids.

  
He began to wonder about Robin though. This kid wasn't a hero. Sure he wore a mask and had a name (even if it was lame). But he hadn't seen action. Roy then assumed that this was because the kid must be only six or seven years old. And even that was too little by Roy's standards to go on patrols and take down bad guys.

  
Still, Roy knew he'd be in trouble later for that little stunt. He hoped Ollie wouldn't ground him.

  
Dick wrapped his arms around the lower half of his legs. This wasn't Batman. Batman was nice. Batman gave him a home to live in. Gave him warm pasta and a cool bedspread with dinosaurs on it. Took him in when no one else would. Adopted him. Played with him. Loved him.

  
At least, Dick was sure that he loved him. Bruce must have loved him, right? After all, Bruce adopted him. He was his dad now in every way that counted. Well, as much as it could count at this point anyway. Dick still felt the empty void in his heart where his moma and papa once were. And while he was unsure if Bruce could fix that hole in his chest, he was sure that Bruce would find other ways to ensure Dick's well being and happiness.

  
"Hey, ignore him. He's a big jerk. Thinks hes all cool because he's finally in double digits." Wally knelt in front of Dick, folding his arms on top of Dick's raised knees, resting his head on top of his arms, using Dick as a head rest."You don't have to tell us if Batman is mean or nice to you. I'm sure he's really a nice guy. I think it's just an act. And anyway, a lot of people make up things about Barry too."

  
"I just realized that i barely know anything about him." Dick admitted.

  
"Well, you'll learn, right? I mean, you just started as his partner." Dick shook his head. "No? You've been his partner for a while?"

  
"I'm not his partner." Dick admitted. He knew he shouldn't be divulging this, but he trusted Wally. Even if he was told not to. "He adopted me."

  
"Wait, Batman can adopt kids?" Dick shrugged and Wally had his aha moment. "Oh you mean the man under the mask! Like Batman's secret identity adopted you!"

  
"Yeah."  
"Dude, way cool!"

  
Only it wasn't. Dick had yet to have this conversation with anyone else. But as much as he loved living with Bruce and being around him, it still hurt to have a constant reminder that his parent's were dead. "I guess."

  
"Hey! I have an idea!" Wally's sudden burst of energy picked Dick up. "Wanna play tag?"

  
Dick grinned. "Only if you promise not to use your superspeed."

  
"I'm not a cheater!" Wally declared, placing his hand on his chest as if he was offended.

  
"Cool." Dick stood up, smiling at his pushed his hand against Wally's shoulder before running away as fast as he could. "You're it!"

  
\---

  
"... so it's agreed, you'll handle the refugees while Hawkgirl and Canary take care of the rest." Batman finished, tapping his fingers on the table. The sinking feeling that something was wrong settled in stomach and Bruce wanted nothing more than to go and check in on his little one.

  
"We are adjourned!" Lantern exclaimed, stretching in his seat, ready to get out of there.

  
"Not quite." The stern voice of Wonder Woman sounded, the low tone of ultimate empowerment filling the air. Bruce felt bad only momentarily as he considered what that voice would sound like in... adult... situations. His guilt was short lived only because he knew he most certainly wasn't the only man in the room to think it. Diana had that effect sometimes. She wasn't the sex kitten that Selina was, wasn't the prowress that Dinah had been rumored to be. Wasn't sweet like Hawkgirl. No, Diana was the kind of women that Bruce fantasized but would never even so much as act on it in the slightest. If a man had the balls big enough to flirt with Diana, perhaps their courage earned them the honor of being turned down by her. Wonder Woman was the kind of woman that if she came knocking on Bruce's door one night, Bruce would find himself in no position to say no. And true, that consideration alone made him feel like a womanizing dick. But Bruce has always made a notion to keep himself available, and while he and Selina took advantage of each other, he would show nothing but admiration and stop nothing short of worshiping a woman like Diana. "There's another matter we need to discuss."

  
"Aw come on, Princess. Not all of us are into child endangerment." Hal Jordan. Bruce groaned. Between him, Barry Allen and Oliver Queen, there were enough quips and quirky one liners to last Bruce a lifetime. Tonight was particularly bad, especially on Jordan's end. Even the ever so patient and kind Superman was close to eing done with Green Lantern's attitude.

  
"Knock it off already." Clark muttered. Bruce couldn't help but let a smirk tug on one side of his mouth. Jordan sat back down. "It's all something we must discuss one way or another."  
"What, the desperate need for a sidekick catching like wildfire?" Hal looked over at Oliver who glared beneath his mask.

  
"That's a horrible joke, I told you about Roy's past in secret."

  
"Sorry." The young pilot shifted in his spot uncomfortably. "I wasn't trying to make a joke at the boy's expense."

  
"Green Lantern has a point, Arrow." Wonder Woman sounded again. "It's only logical, with the private and potentially lonely lives we lead, to want someone to share our passions with."  
"Yeah, except I didn't douse my nephew in chemicals and rejoice when he got struck by lightni-"

  
The sheer force of Barry Allen's hit across Hal Jordan's jaw was shocking to say the least. Allen wasn't the kind of guy to resort to violence, especially when concerning someone like Hal, who was only being his usual smart ass self. "My nephew almost died. I didn't rejoice when he was hit by lightning, I rejoiced when he finally could breathe."

  
"Still, handing an eight year old child a uniform and taking him on as your protoge is irresponsible." Clark gathered, leaning forward over the table. Barry sighed.

  
"You've got me there, Supes. But I can't just let him be on his own. His parents are shit and well... the kid is hyperactive as it is. Speedforce running through his veins, leaving him unaddressed it like waiting for a bomb to go off."

  
"So you've created an outlet." Diana concluded, smiling a little. She liked where Barry was heading with this.

  
"I've never let him face anything more helping an old lady across the street. He's eager, maybe too eager. But he listens when I tell him to stay put should anything potentially dangerous happen. Wally is my nephew. I'd never let anything happen to him. I'd die first." Flash concluded. Bruce felt envy. He envied the man that Barry Allen had become. Wished that he could be that man. They say that The Flash was always late because he always stopped and took time to say hello to each and every person he ever saved. And it was that kind of light, that kind of blind hope and purity Bruce wished he had.

  
But despite all his jealousy of the man he'd never be, Bruce could rival Allen in his love for their respective children. He too would die before he'd let anything happen to Dick Grayson.   
The majority of the members turned their head to Oliver Queen now who paid little attention until he felt all eyes on him. "What? Roy has proven that he's a fabulous shot and knows how to handle himself."

  
"He's ten, Ollie." Dinah spoke up, her voice sounding like a bell.

  
"He's lethal, make no mistake. But you're all looking at me like i'm throwing the kid up against Deathstroke or something!"

  
"And the incident involving the League of Assassins...?" Bruce voiced up. He wasn't one to talk, this whole thing was spearheaded in his direction. Ollie and Barry were just collatteral damage. Still, he was on team 'no baby sidekicks'.

  
"A mistake and one that I still regret. But the kid survived and it won't happen again."

  
Clark let out a heavy and defeaning sigh next to Bruce. The room went quiet and Bruce knew it was his turn to take the stand in front of the jury. "If any of you are thinking that the boy is my sidekick or partner, i hate to burst your melodramatic bubble, but it's not the case."

  
"Oh come on, he's wearing a mask and cape for crying out loud!" Flash nearly shouted.

  
Batman folded his arms, the stern look on his mostly covered face and the purse of his lips told Allen that he had overstepped. "He didn't want to feel left out."

  
"Seriously?" Lantern was beside himself.

  
"He's six, Hal." Bruce concluded. "What was I going to do? Tell him no? He can't wear a mask and a cape and pretend to be a hero?"

  
"That..." Diana started sternly. "Is actually really sweet."

  
"So, let me get this straight." Oliver was speaking again, and he did not seem happy. "I take in a boy and help him control his anger? Barry helps his nephew control his newfound power? And yet, when The Batman indulges the fantasy of letting a six year old boy believe that he too could be a masked vigilante, we're still the bad guys?"

  
"Oliver, it's not like-"

  
"Tell us, oh great Dark Knight, why did you take in your supposed not-sidekick?"

  
"Oh gee, I don't know." Bruce lost it now. "I mean, it sure as hell had nothing to do with the fact that the kid had to watch as his parents were murdered in front of him. God knows that can't be it. I must have some sort of hidden agenda helping an innocent child cope with the loss of his entire family. There's just no way that I can genuinely care for a sweet little boy who happens to look up to me. No, thats just absolutely not allowed."

  
Clark's jaw went completely slack. Bruce lost his mind. Broke his character so to speak and let down his guard completely. If Bruce's words weren't enough to rattle the room, then perhaps watching as he shoved his cowl back while continueing his rant could add to the shock value.

  
"I'm getting sick and fucking tired of everyone assuming that I am incapable of emotion or that all my actions are intended to serve my own selfish purpose or crusade. I took the kid in because I had to. And maybe had you been there, had you seen the way the blood covered his little hands as he screamed loud enough to chill your blood, watched in horror as his whole life had been stolen from him, maybe you too would fucking get it."

  
A hand landed on the small of Bruce's back. He turned to find it's owner reaching up to hug him. "I won't speak for anyone else, but know that I'm sorry that I ever doubted you, Bruce." DIana's words were soft and Bruce leaned in to the hug. It was weird. Really weird. He was hugging Wonder Woman. He wouldn't let that opportunity pass. Not often was Bruce given the chance to show his humanity and he wasn't about to ignore the sweet calming sensation that was Diana's hug. It was sensual, it was laced with attraction. Pure friendship. And Bruce felt grateful to have been blessed with such a gift from her.

  
Every member of the Justice League that played witness to the scene made a mental note to never question Bruce when it concerned the well being of Dick Grayson. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm thinking we'll have some more fluff and then follow baby grayson as he grows up a tiny bit (not for a second easing up on the sweet sweet toothache that is all this fluffy fluff fluff). What other characters do you guys wanna see? <3


End file.
